


Blue-Blooded Bestie

by Lunarium



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Androids, Family, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Minor Injuries, Post-Canon, Robot/Human Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:56:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29557365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarium/pseuds/Lunarium
Summary: Young Damian has a best friend he met at school. One day Chris learns she’s an android.
Relationships: Chris Miller & Damian Miller, Chris Miller & Original Android Character, Damian Miller & Original Android Character
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7
Collections: Black Is Beautiful 2021





	Blue-Blooded Bestie

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pegasus143](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pegasus143/gifts).



“Dad— _Dad_! Wren fell!” 

Chris hopped to his feet at his son’s distressed voice, whipped around the corner and bolted out the door and towards the scene of the accident. He bit back the curse when he saw the form of the tiny girl flat on her face, the broken swing dangling by its hinges just a few feet away. 

“I’m sorry, Dad!” Damian wept. “I know you said not to play on the swings—”

“It’s alright,” Chris said. No amount of informing children that a swing set was missing a few nails would convince them that the damn thing was too dangerous until it got fixed. Or maybe that was just Damian, stubborn as always. Didn’t matter. What mattered was making sure Wren wasn’t hurt. 

He got on one knee and called her name gently, and she moaned back some comment about her doll that had gone missing in the accident. Okay, so no concussion; that was a good sign. 

“Is anything broken?” Chris asked. “Can you get up? He placed a hand on Wren’s shoulder, and she turned around, and that was when Chris saw it: an abrasion revealing smooth metallic surface below. A moment later the skin mesh coalesced over the shallow injury, leaving barely a blue bruise in its wake. 

Chris sucked in his breath. “Any other injuries?” 

“My knee,” Wren said. She shifted to a sitting position and brought up her right leg, showing that a small wooden splinter had punctured just below the knee, drawing a tiny amount of thirium. 

“Let’s get that cleaned up,” Chris said in that voice reserved for comforting children. He made to pick Wren up, but she had already gotten to her feet and took his hand. Damian found Wren’s doll in the bushes. Chris winced; the poor plush looked worse for wear. Thanking Damian, he led them both back inside. 

How did one exactly treat injured androids? All personnel at the Detroit City Police Department were given first responder training—for humans, that is. Little was said for the treatment of androids, even six years after they had gained their independence. Chris had mostly given them a respectful wide berth unless needed. 

All the same, he was certain any liquids, even antiseptics, were detrimental to the integrity of an android’s interior. He wiped away the thirium with a dry gauze as Damian watched from around the archway to the kitchen, wide-eyed and near tears. 

Wren attentively studied his ever move, at times mirroring his actions on her doll, now cleaned up of soot. She winced when he applied pressure to her wound, as a real child would have. Even he was fooled; he hummed softly and sang her the same song he would sing whenever Damian hurt himself during his superhero adventures. 

Now, to whom should he report this injury? He hoped the bandage and brightly-wrapped cloth was sign enough to her parents. Frowning at it, he hoped the injury wouldn’t become a problem later on. Her wiring didn’t seem affected, but he wasn’t an expert on this matter. 

A flash of memory crossed his mind—androids with missing limbs, bullet holes in their skulls, chests, or abdomens, still walking, still able to fight—

“The bleeding has stopped,” he muttered. “Think you can walk?” 

Wren looked up and gave a shy nod. He helped her off the kitchen stool and she rushed over to Damian, throwing her arms about him. Chris couldn’t help the smile amidst the shrill laughters of triumph. 

The swing set will have to be taken care of soon before the two thought it would be any good idea to try to reckon with it again. As Chris stood studying the set, his mind reeled back to the children still inside, and sadness gripped his heart. 

In ten years his son wouldn’t even give that swing set a glance, but what of Wren? Would she be forever repeating the same school year until she rusted, forever fated to become someone’s best friend and playmate before the harsh reality hit? Without the indicative LED light, it was so easy to be fooled into thinking Wren was just a human child… 

Chris couldn’t bear to pull Damian aside and have a Talk. Maybe arrangements can be made. Wren could follow Damian from first grade to second and possibly even to third. A couple years seemed like forever to the eyes of a child. They could be friends in that childhood eternity until everything naturally phased out, until Wren could give the excuse that she would be moving. But they could still be friends, and Chris wasn’t going to do anything to trample on that, especially not after—six years ago—the androids and the humans— 

But what would become of Damian after he learned the truth? Chris wondered as he gathered up the nails and the swing rope. He couldn’t see his son turning resentful—at least he hoped not. Another memory passed through his mind, the end of a gun barrel between his eyes and hardened looks mingled with grief and fear. 

“Mr. Miller?” came a voice. 

Chris looked up and saw Wren. Her voice and the normal girl-like expression had altered somehow, although Chris couldn’t quite explain how. 

“Is Damian all right?” he asked cautiously. 

“He is doing well,” Wren said. “We were watching cartoons.”

“Is your leg hurting again?” 

Wren shook her head. “I noticed how your expression kept changing while you were fixing me, like you were troubled about something. Is it because I am an android?” 

Damn, as confrontational as any human child. “Uh—”

“You’re worried about your son,” Wren continued, and the longer she spoke, the more mechanical her voice became, polite yet very much a machine. “But I assure you, you have nothing to fear. My scans have shown you were present in the police force during the Android revolution of 2038 AD. Advancements have been made since that time, by my own people. They have perfected the child androids beyond what humans have been capable with the YK500 models of years previous. I am an YK800 model, and I am capable of cognitively growing alongside human children who are my peers. Afterwards my memory may be downloaded to a model YK900 for my teenage years, and then later graduate to whichever adult android model of my choosing.

“And so, you see, Mr. Miller, you have nothing to fear.” 

Chris’s mouth hung open for a moment, stunned, before he shook his head, grinned, and gave a laugh with one hand over his heart. “I— _well_ —thank you! I did not want him to be heartbroken, and this…this is great news!” He smiled down at her. “Take very good care of him, Wren.” 

Wren smiled, then blinked, and her eyes shone back with the same child-like wonderment from before. In that moment Damian burst through the back door with a wide grin that Chris knew so well. 

“Dad! Can you order us a pizza?” he asked brightly. 

Wren’s eyes brightened and she hopped in place, looking up at Chris pleadingly. 

Chris gave another hearty laugh. Why not? He was off duty today, it was the weekend, and he had just heard the best news of his life. “Of course!” 

The swing set would be for another time. For now, he followed Damian and Wren back indoors, his heart merrier than it had ever been.


End file.
